


Why Am I Here?

by cavicanem



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Introspection, anyway, human-ish? these dragons still have tails and horns and other bits, mentions of plagues, weredragons...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavicanem/pseuds/cavicanem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A red-eyed Imperial wonders why she left the Scarred Wasteland at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Am I Here?

**Author's Note:**

> written as a commission for my good friend, ira! [here's a link to his lair, should you be interested.](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=202358&tab=userpage)

For Mepha, it had been a long day in a series of long days. A very, very long day. First, she had had an informal get-together with Basilica that Whetsella had apparently decided to invite herself to. After that, she had decided to visit Vergil in his small courtyard-turned-garden, hoping to ease her mind after an hour of Whetsella staring at her over Basilica's shoulder coldly, and had accidentally knocked over a pot with her while turning. He, of course, assured her it was fine and "well, that wasn't really important anyway, I'll have Father get some new seeds of that variety on his next excursion." When she had gone to take her lunch with the rest of the clan, Day had been busy with his jockey friends and Vergil shyly socializing with some other of the few young ones. After that, she had decided to perhaps do something on her own, so she headed to the room Basilica had kindly set aside for her to perform her magic.

It had taken several attempts to open the locked door with her key. When she sat down at the stool in front of her seeing basin after lighting her incense and otherwise preparing (5 parts of water from the raincatcher in the sunniest part of their territory, 1 part blood of a recent hunt, and some dried herbs Vergil had grown for her, to make sure what she saw was related to the clan), she cleared her mind, called to the Plaguebringer, and stared into the liquid.

And stared.

And stared. For what felt like hours.

For the first time in a very long time, the waters refused to speak to her. Or perhaps she just didn't understand what they were trying to say. Or maybe she was just having an off day. Whatever it was, it made her heart feel hollow. She said goodbye, though it felt like nothing was there anyway, disposed of the bloodied water in the basin, rinsed out the bottle that had contained the blood, and sat down again at her worn wooden stool.

She smoothed out her dress, looking around at the room she earned her keep in before slumping, her shoulders turning just slightly inward with sadness. The dried plants, vials of blood and other precious liquids, pieces of bone and horn and hoof, everything that was usually a comfort and ensured her place in the clan suddenly felt like all of the reasons she didn't belong.

Mepha was not prone to this kind of thought, or closer to the truth was that she did not allow herself to think it, but sometimes she slipped. After a few days full of mistakes, being shunned and overlooked, and now failure, she had definitely slipped.

What was a Plagueborn doing so far from their home? Why had she left the infected lands in the first place? She had never felt right there, amongst the screaming and howling of her flight brothers and sisters in reverence of Plague and Death. Maybe she should have tried harder, made herself fit in, made herself worship correctly and wish for all-consuming death and illness and worse. Of course, herself as a teenager did not think so. Mepha had left the Plaguelands, found herself wandering and telling fortunes for treasure and food and shelter.

Mepha had felt better like that. Using her magic to help or entertain or guide instead of destroy.

When she had entered Light territory, she had met Chime. Perhaps he was a first love, perhaps she just needed guidance herself, perhaps she just wanted somewhere to settle for a while, but somehow the strange man with the wolf headpiece and his clan had managed to keep her for years. The collective family had raised her, particularly two of the already-present Plagueborn, Sivaas and Enyo. "Raised" being a figure of speech, she was grown at that point, but perhaps not fully matured. They helped her do that.

But, eventually, she felt the need to wander again. Chime did not discourage comings and goings from his clan and Mepha felt she wanted to be elsewhere. Perhaps she could help a clan just as Chime's had helped her, bestowing knowledge and guidance and counsel.

When she met Day, she found her opportunity, whether she knew it at the time or not. Basilica's mother accepted her presence, Basilica herself becoming a quick friend, Dayveon was a blossoming relationship, and she felt she had found a new home. There was some murmur of distrust, she was the only Plague flight in the clan after all, but only a murmur that was easily ignored by Day and Mepha. Soon, they had a son, Vergil.

Just as soon, disaster struck. A deadly illness took hold of the clan and would not release its jaws, taking all of Basilica's family and over half of the others with it. Mepha did her best, praying to the Plaguebringer for mercy as she buried the dead and took care of the afflicted, but it was not enough. The illness passed of its own volition, not of any of the clan.

And she felt blame placed on her shoulders. She felt distrustful stares, heard hateful whispers, calling her a "messenger of her Mother." They were not wrong, exactly, but she would never in a million lifetimes wish that devastation on another being. Perhaps others of her flight, but not her. Never.

Basilica was thrown into the position of leader, Whitsella at her side, Day and Mepha's relationship dissolved, and Mepha felt suddenly very alone.

So very alone. Everyone was simply making time for her, and Vergil was growing up, almost an adult himself now, nobody needed her.

And as she stared at the room filled with her blood magic, her Plague heritage, her failed attempt to foretell, she felt it even more.

A quiet knock on her door made her sit up fully. She turned her head, unclenching hands that had wrapped themselves in her dress and folding them in her lap.

"Mepha?" Basilica's voice rang through the silence like a bell, as always.

"Come in, Basilica." The words flowed from Mepha's mouth without thought.

The door opened and the small matriarch walked in, closing it behind her and slumping back against it, her luminous eyes closing in exhaustion.

"Oh my Light, I've been so busy today," Basilica complained, Mepha hearing something being set down on a counter beside her but her mind was buzzing too much to pay attention to more than Basilica. "Whitsella's been breathing down my neck, I've had appointments and meetings and hearings up to my ears, and I've hardly had a moment to myself."

When Mepha stayed silent, simply turning on her stool to face Basilica, Basilica's eyes opened and her head tilted a bit.

"What's wrong? You normally would have made a joke, something about being 'up to my ears' not being very much at all." Basilica was suddenly deadly serious. She stepped forward, her hand going to Mepha's shoulder before moving down her arm to clasp her hand.

And just like that, Mepha burst into tears.

"Oh, Mepha..." Basilica said softly, her free hand guiding Mepha's downturned head to her chest and then petting her hair, from the back of her horns to the bottom of her neck. Mepha squeezed Basilica's hand tightly between her two, leaning gratefully into Basilica's frame. "What's wrong, Mepha?"

"Why am I here?" Mepha hiccuped after a few moments. "Why am I anywhere? Why did I leave my birthplace, nobody wants me enough to keep me anywhere, I keep leaving and people let me, if I left here would you let me?" Her emotions, normally kept firmly locked away, were spilling from her lips, tears flowing from her eyes, she felt ashamed of herself for this outburst already.

"Well, first of all, you're here because the deities want you here. More importantly than that, I want you here. Dayveon wants you here. Vergil needs you here," Basilica said firmly, pulling away to lock eyes with Mepha. "I would never let you leave us without good reason. You've helped keep the clan - and I - stable, though obviously thanklessly since everyone around here is too superstitious for their own good. And yes, I know I'm speaking to a seer, but you know what I mean." Basilica was defending herself from Mepha's witty comments without Mepha making them, and something about that was comforting.

"How have I helped anybody?" Mepha said, her crying slowing but still leaving her speaking in a breathless lilt.

"You've been here. You've used your magic, counseled me, kept Dayveon in line - despite helping him constantly - because Lightweaver knows he would tear this place apart through sheer personality alone. You've never abandoned us, or lost faith in us, just kept the clan on its feet as best you could with your sight and knowledge. That is incredibly helpful, to all of the clan, whether they want to acknowledge it or not." Basilica continued to pet her hair as Mepha wiped her eyes. "You belong here. With me. With Dayveon and Vergil. With this clan. Hasn't Chime said the same, in your letters?"

"... Yes." Mepha nodded and sniffed. "I haven't cried like this since I was young." She laughed bitterly.

"Well, sometimes you need a good cry, or at least Townshend would have you believe that." Basilica stepped away. "Now, are you sure you're wanted here?"

Swallowing the last of the lump in her throat, Mepha nodded again and was met with a smile.

"Good. Now, I brought supper for both of us, so let's eat." Basilica gathered up the food she had deposited and Mepha stood up to move to a small table, Basilica following close.

Mepha felt light, now. Lighter than she had in ages. She would stay here, for the rest of her life, and deities save whoever tried to separate her and her clan.

 


End file.
